


A Very Soulless Christmas

by morgana07



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, Gen, Holidays, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Sam Winchester, Season/Series 06, Soulless Sam Winchester, Worried Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-19
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-05 04:57:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1089875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgana07/pseuds/morgana07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1-shot. Dealing with a soulless brother at Christmas isn’t easy. It’s harder when a simple injury turns much worse than either Winchester first thought & Dean lands in the hospital only to see that perhaps his soulless little brother isn’t as uncaring as he believed. *Hurt/sick!Dean & Soulless but trying!Sam* A Season 6 fic. Set before Appointment in Samarra.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Very Soulless Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Maybe for some minor language.  
> Tags/Spoilers: No tags and since it’s set in Season 6 there shouldn’t be any spoilers unless you haven’t seen that season yet.  
> Disclaimer: I don’t own anything. This is written for enjoyment of fans by fans.  
> Author Note: I know, the holiday bunny is on a roll when it should be working on the other piece. This time it chose Robo-Sam and while I don’t write Sam while soulless often and I know a lot of readers don’t like reading him while soulless I hope you’ll give this one a chance. Thanks!

“Why the hell didn’t you two idjits just come here?” Bobby Singer demanded from the phone. “I’ve got plenty of room and then the good Sheriff would have someone else to bother.”

“Normally I would’ve but with Sam still soulless and not getting the whole Christmas thing really I figured it was just better to hunt our way through to the New Year,” Dean Winchester winced as he tried to balance the phone on his shoulder, flip the remote on the small motel TV and ignore the pain in his badly wrenched and swelled knee. “Possibly also not a good idea.”

The gruff older man on the phone had known Dean since he was just a small snot nosed kid trying to protect his baby brother from the realities of the world so Bobby had a good sense of the various tones Dean used. Right then he heard one of his better attempts at pretending the whole soulless little brother thing still wasn’t bothering him.

“Where’s Sam?” he wanted to know since before Stull happened, before Sam’s time in the Cage with two raging Archangels and his return without his soul, Sam Winchester would not be two feet away from his older brother; especially if Dean was hurt.

Glancing at his watch and considering the time his brother had been gone gave Dean a good idea where the body of his brother would be found right then. “Probably shacked up in some motel with whatever chick he picked up tonight or…doing something else which I try to not think on unless I’ve had a bottle of Jack already,” he replied, wincing at both the pain in his knee and the yelling in his ear.

“Bobby, this isn’t Sammy. This isn’t my floppy haired, big eyed little brother who enjoyed Christmas with all the trappings,” he sighed as he glanced at the tiny lit tree that had come with the room that was also not doing to relieve Dean’s mood. “His exact words were ‘we’re hunters, it’s a day’ and it was like listening to my Dad say pretty much the same thing to Sam one year. Only now I know how Sammy felt after hearing it.”

“How bad you hurt?” Bobby wanted to know, debating on sending someone to check on the boys and maybe pound Sam’s soulless skull into a brick wall to see if that might jar a little bit of feeling loose. “You doing alright alone?”

Dean’s green eyes shifted from the swelled knee to around the room and the thought of moving even to the bed seemed to make it hurt worse. “Yeah, I’m good,” he lied through his teeth because he knew if he said anything different Bobby would find someone to come pound on their door and he didn’t want Sam near anyone else until he found a way to fix his brother. “I’m probably going to just take a couple of these pain pills that knock me on my ass even without drinking anything with them and go to sleep,” he added with a shrug. “Sam’s a big boy and can take care of himself.”

And that as Bobby understood only too well was something else that bothered the older Winchester since he’d grown up under the mantra of ‘look after Sammy’ and ‘take care of your brother’ so now that Sam was soulless and a lot freer with his comments it was pretty clear that this version of Sam didn’t want his brother’s help much, if at all.

“You’ll get him back, boy,” he tried to reassure the worried younger man but so far had hit only brick walls in researching how to return a soul.

“I hope so,” Dean sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before shaking himself. “I’m going to go, Bobby. Merry Christmas and tell Sheriff Mills ‘Hey’ when she drops in on you tomorrow,” he smirked at the growl that got him, disconnecting the call before staring at his cellphone a second before hitting speed-dial for some reason that escaped him.

Dean stared at the end of the newspaper wrapped package he’d stuffed under the sofa he’d been sitting on all day and figured he’d just leave it when they left.

The gift to his brother had been instinctive until he was reminded that this version of Sam wouldn’t give a crap and also probably wouldn’t appreciate the porn mag and can of shaving cream.

Dialing Sam’s cellphone still was a mystery to Dean but he figured since his brother wouldn’t be back until well after midnight it wouldn’t hurt to at least say Merry Christmas to his voicemail. He’d just blame it on the pain and pain pills if Sam made an issue of it tomorrow.

Expecting the call to go right to voicemail as it normally did when Sam was out doing whatever it was Sam did when not on a case; Dean wasn’t expecting to hear his brother’s voice actually pick up and speak. “What’s wrong?”

The shock that Sam picked up when he should’ve been having mindless sex stunned Dean that he didn’t even speak. He just quickly disconnected to stare at the phone, not even noticing that there might have been just a hint of concern on Sam’s voice.

“Damn, he can have sex and answer the phone?” he shook his head in wonder, knowing any other time he might have been impressed. If it hadn’t been his little brother and he didn’t know that right then Sam’s ability to care or understand right from wrong was all screwed up.

The soulless side of Sam truly bothered Dean but not for the more obvious reasons. He’d basically learned to ignore the tiny issues like Sam letting him be turned into a damn vampire of the whole sex with the hippie chick during Dean’s abduction by faeries or even Sam’s admission that he really didn’t care about anyone, including Dean.

Alright, the last one had hurt a lot more than Dean would ever admit but it was the other things about this side of Sam that he missed. He missed his brother’s smile, the one with the dimples that Dean hadn’t seen in a long time. He missed just hanging out, drinking a couple beers and watching TV or the little jokes in bad taste that could still make Sam’s cheeks blush.

Those were the things Dean missed. This time of year he missed Sam humming bad Christmas carols or trying to sneak around to find out what Dean might want or need for Christmas. He missed the joy on Sam’s face when he would just randomly drive through a town filled with houses brightly lit for Christmas.

He missed that joy, he missed Sam’s love for Christmas…he missed Sam.

“I’ll get you back, little brother,” he whispered to the empty motel room that was a lot colder than Dean originally realized as he went to pull himself to his feet; trying to keep all his weight on his leg but after sitting all day his legs were stiff and he felt the searing pain that shot through his injured knee only a second before he hit the floor. “ _Sonuvabitch_!”

“Dean?”

The burning pain was so intense right then that Dean had to clamp his eyes shut to keep from puking so he didn’t immediately look toward the voice that he was also slightly putting off to shock because it was way too early for Sam to be back.

It wasn’t until he heard the sounds of bags hitting the table, the door being closed and strong hands carefully, a little too carefully for Robo-Sam, touching his shoulder did Dean finally pry one eye open to look into his brother’s face.

“What happened?” Sam had just been unlocking the door when he heard his brother fall and the harsh curse that came with it. “Damn it, Dean! This swelled a lot more in just two hours,” he’d looked down to realize the wrenched knee had swelled to the point where the heavy denim looked to actually be cutting into the skin. “Is this why you called me?”

“What?” the pain and rolling stomach was making it hard for Dean to focus. He was also a little surprised to see Sam back this early and even more surprised when he didn’t smell either liquor or sex on him. “Why’re you…shit, this hurts,” he hissed, fingers going to grab onto his knee only to have a strong hand hold his back.

“Let me look,” Sam helped Dean sit up against the bottom of the bed to eye the swelled knee and the clearly too tight jean leg. “Umm, attached to the jeans?” he decided to ask before doing what he knew he’d have to since he had been trying to make an attempt to be a little more like his old self, at least where his brother was concerned. “Dean?”

Dean hadn’t been feeling too good all night but had decided to not bother telling Sam that since he didn’t think he could handle the cold look and too casual comment that might bring but now as he felt his body shivering against cold that he knew couldn’t all be from the room he tried to keep his eyes open to see what his soulless little brother was up to.

“Cut ‘em,” he managed to grit from between clenched teeth. “The ice bag melted and…it hurt to even think about getting more ice from outside so it might’ve swelled more but…this hurts about as much as getting torn up by a Hellhound.”

That had Sam’s fingers stilling on the pair of scissors he pulled form their First-Aid kit because even though he didn’t still have the feelings that went with the memories something about that still pulled at him. “Hold still,” he quickly cut up the jeans but went slower when he reached the part that the swelled knee made too tight until finally he just ripped the denim and then soulless or not Sam still felt his stomach do a turn. “Shit!”

The wrenched knee, which was not something they both hadn’t dealt with before over the years, had swollen a lot more than Sam expected but it was also swelled in a way that warned the younger Winchester that something else was wrong; something else that required more than he would even attempt to fix.

“Dean? Hey, I think this needs to be looked at,” he prepared himself for the fight since Dean never wanted to go near an ER or a clinic unless he was bleeding out or Sam was hurt a little. “I think when that damn monster slammed you down the steps you might have hurt your knee a bit more than we thought and…Dean?”

He really was hearing his brother but right then Dean’s head had clouded to the point where he just didn’t feel like fighting about going to the ER or fighting with Sam anymore over anything. “I got you something for Christmas,” he waved a hand toward the sofa, unaware of how his voice was slurring and missing the actual flicker of something that crossed Sam’s face as it became obvious how sick Dean was. “I know you won’t want it since you…this you don’t like Christmas and that’s…cool. I just wanted to tell you so when we get your soul back, and I am getting it back, that you won’t think I forgot you and…Sam?”

“Yeah, Dean?” Sam was searching for his brother’s jacket and wallet when he turned back around to grab for the reaching hand out of some instinct he didn’t know he still had. “How many of those pain pills did you take?” he asked in the hopes that his brother’s blown pupils and slurred speech could be blamed on those while he reached down to help Dean up, swearing under his breath when he had to support him as Dean fell.

“Not nearly enough it seems,” Dean muttered, trying to bring Sam back into focus when he managed to find his brother’s face with one searching hand. “I’ll tell you this since I think I am really, really out there and you can just dismiss it. I miss you, little brother.”

Ever since waking up free of the Cage, Sam hadn’t felt an ounce of emotion. He hadn’t once in over a year felt even a tiny flash, except maybe for those few times he’d driven by to check on his brother. Now, with that quietly made admission, he actually felt his throat tighten and a slight burn in his eyes that he had to blink away to simply pick his older brother up when he finally passed out against him to get him into the Impala.

Sam wasn’t even aware of how gentle he was as he Dean bundled into the backseat of the Impala, being careful to support his injured knee while covering him with a blanket to ward off any more shock.

He paused before backing out to grab some things from inside the motel room to just look at his pale faced older brother.

Sam understood it was difficult for Dean now that he understood what was wrong with Sam. He got that his brother was fighting to get his soul back for both of them and while there were times when Sam wasn’t sure he wanted it back there were other times, like now, that he missed it.

He missed having the emotional connection with his brother. He missed being the man he was. He missed…Dean. “I miss you too, Dean,” he whispered, mad at himself for not making sure Dean’s injury wasn’t serious.

Sam knew Dean thought he’d gone out to a bar tonight or to get laid but that wasn’t actually why Sam had gone out. He just hoped he got a chance to explain that to his brother.

By the time consciousness began to return along with the low amount of pain, Dean knew immediately that he’d been given the good stuff to dull the pain. Working past that, he finally heard the low voices that were speaking from somewhere near him.

“The knee was wrenched severally but there were also several torn muscles in it. It doesn’t look like he kept it elevated enough so a pocket of fluid formed and that increased the swelling. We were able to drain the fluid to remove it so no further damage will be done. We put him on a round of antibiotics and will keep him overnight to let those and the pain medication work. You’ll be able to take him home tomorrow, Mr. Winchester.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Sam’s tone was clipped, even more so than his usual one lately which was about the only way to tell when the younger man was actually angry. “You were told about the other thing?”

An uneasy cough was heard before the doctor spoke again. “Yes. It’s certainly rare but you seem to have some important friends. A nurse will check on your brother every few hours to see if his pain meds need adjusted so if you or he needs anything before then just push the call button.”

“I will. Thank you,” Sam responded, adding softly after the door closed fully. “Asshole.”

If Dean still wasn’t a little woozy and a lot confused that comment might have had his eyebrows lifting since he hadn’t heard Sam’s snarky side since learning about the whole soulless thing.

He laid still to let things come back to him. He recalled the hunt, the thing tossing him down a flight of stairs to land hard on his right knee. He recalled it being Christmas Eve and Sam going out. He knew he talked to Bobby and after that was when things began going fuzzy on him.

Now as he listened, he heard Sam moving around the hospital room and knew his brother was making noise for his sake but he still stayed still with his eyes closed.

It wasn’t until he felt a warm hand close over his that finally Dean opened his blurry eyes with the thought of testing to see if this was his brother because Robo-Sam normally wouldn’t be caught dead doing anything Sam-like and the touch to his hand was definitely only something his little brother would do.

“Welcome back,” Sam had known the second his brother began waking up which was another reason he’d wanted the asshole doctor out of the room.

Not having emotions, not being able to decide if his actions might go over the top was one thing but dealing with a doctor with a callous attitude that had instantly jumped to the wrong conclusions about his brother had pissed Sam off.

He’d come close to simply cutting the man’s air off but had pulled back and made a call to Bobby. He wasn’t sure what role the older man had played or what he’d said but the moment a State Trooper arrived to speak with the doctor in charge all the attitude had vanished and Dean got the care he needed.

Sam wasn’t sure if the Trooper had been real or a friend of Bobby’s but he suspected he and Dean would owe Jodi Mills a favor since before the Trooper left he had smiled when telling Sam that Sheriff Mills said to wish him and his brother a Merry Christmas and that she expected to see them soon.

“Where am I, what happened, who are you and what the hell’d they give me?” Dean’s voice was low and only slightly slurred now as a glass of ice water with a straw was held up.

“The local hospital, that wrenched knee took a bad turn, no, I’m not possessed and they gave you the really good stuff,” Sam replied easily, a small smile curving his lips as he leaned back in the chair he’d placed beside the bed but didn’t move his hand when he felt Dean turn his over to just lightly hold it for some form on contact. “They say you can get outta here tomorrow.”

“Joy,” Dean sighed, glancing to see his knee didn’t look as swelled even though it was bandaged heavily. “How bad?”

“There was some fluid that had to be drained so you’ll be off your feet for at least another week or so to let this heal fully,” Sam recognized the look that brought since his brother hated to be inactive. “I talked to Bobby and our choices are go to his place, not go to his place in which he has Sheriff Mills put out an APB on us to haul our asses to his place or they just show up and double team us until we agree to go to his place,” he ran his tongue over his teeth. “I told him we’d come to his place.”

Dean watched his soulless brother, the one who had sat across from him to say he didn’t care about anyone, and wondered if it was the drugs or the pain that actually made him think Sam might have been amused by their so-called choices.

“You…you can just drop me off there and…go do a hunt or something,” he hated the thought of Sam being on his own without a soul and with their grandfather still around but he also didn’t want to saddle Sam with being stuck at Bobby’s while his knee healed. “Just…if you put a scratch on my car I will so end you, little brother.”

“I’d never ding the Impala, Dean,” Sam assured him, accepting the offer for what it was and also accept his choice for what it was. “I’m not leaving you alone at Bobby’s, Dean. We stay until your knee is healed and then we can hunt or…get my soul back, whatever comes first.”

“Who the hell are you and what did you do with Robo-you?” Dean had to ask because this was not the soulless asshole he’d been dealing with for the last few months.

Sam smirked, standing to go grab a bag he’d brought in with him when he’d decided that he was not leaving his brother alone in this place. “I know you miss the me that I was and I know I’ve screwed up in a lot of ways but I am trying, Dean,” he sat back down to see that his brother’s eyes were finally back to normal size if still a little glassy. “I can’t be who you want me to me but for you, with you, I can try to at least be something that I was. That’s why I left you alone at the motel.”

The choice to stay with him at Bobby’s didn’t miss Dean’s attention and he understood what Sam was doing for him even when it wasn’t something his brother would have done normally right then. “I thought you went out to…” he rolled his eyes a little and nearly felt his eyes bug out when he swore he caught just the slightest blush cross his brother’s face but knew it had to be the drugs he was on. “I was impressed that you answered your phone while…doing it.”

“Is that why you hung up?” Sam blinked, understanding now and wondering if what he was feeling because of it was shame and guilt. “I answered because I saw it was you and wondered if you were alright. I was on my way back to the motel and I didn’t go out to drink or find a woman, Dean. I went out to get some dinner for us, rent a movie and…” he hesitated a bit on the last before placing something on the bed near his brother’s hand. “And to get you this.”

Now it was Dean’s turn to blink as he took in the small newspaper wrapped box, feeling his breath catch even before one of the machines he was still hooked up to made a noise. “You…what is this?” he asked quietly, picking the wrapped gift up to just stare at it.

“Your Christmas present,” Sam replied in an equally quiet voice, eyes on the package he’d retrieved from under the motel sofa before lifting his gaze up to see Dean watching him. “I know what I said. I don’t have the same feelings for this holiday like I used to or that you do but…it’s still Christmas, you’re still my big brother and I’d have to be dead to not get you something, Dean,” he stated, adding quickly. “I know it’s not what I normally give you but…it’s what I know you needed or the second thing you needed. I’m working on getting you the first thing.”

Watching Sam’s face for another moment to try to see if he was actually sincere it slowly hit Dean that his brother was being sincere and then he carefully opened the newspaper to see the box was actually a watch box.

Opening the box, Dean felt something settle then loosen on his chest as he removed the watch to realize it was nearly identical to the one he’d worn for years but had been damaged when the damn Djinns attacked him months earlier.

“You…this is…how’d you find this?” he finally settled on since he’d known his little brother had worked and saved one whole summer when they’d been kids to buy his brother that first watch so Dean didn’t even think they still made it.

“Looked online a lot until I found a store in this area that still sold them,” Sam replied with a shrug, fingers flicking the tape on his own gift. “The hard part was then finding a hunt in this area to have an excuse to come here so I could buy it. Of course, I wasn’t counting on you getting hurt in the process so that was kind of bad.”

Dean snorted a little at that but slipped the watch on to then look up to see Sam eyeing the porn mag with an unreadable expression. “I know and I’ll get you something else as soon as I can get your laptop from you or…Sam?”

Now that he was more awake and alert Dean was certain he wasn’t seeing things as he took in the small smile and also faint blush as Sam flipped through the more risqué than usual magazine.

“No, this is fine,” Sam assured him, a little surprised at the spurt of something he felt over getting something other than this from Dean. “I like it and I knew you’d never forget me, Dean,” he added, noticing his brother’s eyes were getting heavy. “You’ll be sleeping until the drugs wear off so just go ahead. I’ll be here.”

“Sammy,” he yawned without realizing he’d used his brother’s nickname, the one he hadn’t used while Sam was missing his soul because it didn’t feel right. “You don’t have to stay here. I’m fine. Go back to the motel and sleep or eat or…”

“I’m not leaving you alone in a hospital on Christmas, Dean,” Sam was firm on this, reaching on instinct to pull the covers up that his brother kept tossing. “You never left me and I’m not leaving you until I sign you out and we leave for Bobby’s. I’ll just sit here and watch TV but…”

Dean got it then and felt the tears that wanted to come, the ones he’d blame on being loopy on pain meds. Sam had been thirteen one Christmas when he’d been hurt accidentally on a hunt that never should’ve happened.

Their Dad had wanted Dean to leave his brother in the hospital to help him finish up but Dean had flat out refused to leave his hurt and scared little brother alone in a strange hospital on Christmas and had stayed with him until Sam was released.

The soulless side of Sam annoyed and bothered Dean most of the times but as he laid there to watch Sam now from under his lashes he also began to see that regardless of what his brother thought there was perhaps still something of Sam still inside him and that was the hope that Dean would cling to until he got his little brother’s soul back.

“Merry Christmas, Sammy,” he murmured, drifting off slowly but was still awake enough to feel the hesitate touch of fingers on his hand and the next words his brother spoke.

“Merry Christmas, Dean,” Sam knew the nickname was because Dean wasn’t paying attention but he also hadn’t been expecting the rush of rare and shouldn’t be there emotion at hearing it since he still understood that no one except Dean would ever be allowed to call him that. “Merry Christmas.”

**The End**


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